


Undercover Heart

by elsinore



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drama, F/M, Mystery, Next Generation, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-04
Updated: 2019-04-01
Packaged: 2019-06-21 19:10:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15564531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elsinore/pseuds/elsinore
Summary: Dominique Weasley dreams of being an investigative journalist but instead she’s stuck as the personal-advice columnist for theDaily Prophet. When she lands her first undercover assignment, her chance to become a real reporter rides on her old Hogwarts rival, the arrogant Lysander Scamander, and it might be more dangerous than either of them expect.





	1. Chapter One

“Dear Margot, your problems really aren’t my problems.”

Puffing out a quick exhalation, Dominique backspaced quickly.

“Dear Margot, why don’t you ask your mother for advice so I can do something more fun with my time than fix your life?”

Another emphatic deletion.

“Dear Margot, do you have any ideas for a breaking story so I don’t have to sit here helping pathetic people like you anymore?” she typed in sharp, staccato rhythm.

Dom groaned loudly and deleted the sentence for the third time. If only Margot could solve her own damn problems. “And then I’d be out of a job,” Dom muttered under her breath.

“Sorry, didn’t quite catch that?” A bright grin flashed down at her.

Dom flicked her gaze up to meet the piercing hazel eyes that she knew would be waiting for her. “Shut it.” Pretending to be intensely focused, she pounded out yet another curt line to Margot on her keyboard.

The tall man leaned against the edge of her desk and brushed a hand through his coiffed, coffee-colored hair. “What’s the dilemma this time? A lost cat, perhaps?” He peered over her shoulder. “Ah, the poor, heartbroken Margot!” he exclaimed dramatically, clutching a hand to his heart.

She spun from her computer and fixed him with an angry glare. “Don’t make me tell you again. Leave me alone!”

He held up two hands in mock protest. “Oh no, didn’t mean to interrupt your essential work. I was on my way to a meeting with the big guy anyway.” Jerking a thumb in the direction of the Editor-in-chief’s office, he winked, pushed himself off her desk, and strode down the aisle of the huge newsroom.

Seething at his retreating back, Dom found she couldn’t muster up any energy to concentrate on her reply to poor, pathetic Margot. Lysander Scamander had everything she wanted: a top investigative reporting job at the Daily Prophet, enough charisma to be the boss’s favorite, and the glory of having graduated at the top of their Hogwarts class. It was disgusting, actually.

Not to take credit from him, because the truth was, the man was brilliant, and that much had been evident from day one of Transfiguration in their First Year. But she had only ever been the smallest bit behind him, every step of the way, and while he got called into important meetings with Editor Barnabas Cuffe, she was stuck out in the muck of the newsroom chipping away at her daily personal advice column. It just wasn’t fair.

Dom pushed reddish-blond bangs from her eyes and stared at the huge, vintage clock on the far wall of the massive room. She let her gaze linger on the bustle of the Daily Prophet newsroom, its cubicles packed with over-eager secretaries and cocky reporters dashing off last minute stories. The smell of ink hung in the air and the sound of the printing press cranking out pages made her long for some excitement. She had always known she belonged in a newsroom just like this, but she had never imagined her experience inside of it would consist of giving love advice to Margot, and thousands like her.

For the past two years since she had graduated school and gotten this job at the Prophet through her Aunt Ginny, Dom had known something was missing. She wanted the thrill of the chase and the adrenaline rush of covering an actual beat, not the crazy sob stories of half the wizarding world. But because she didn’t have high-up connections ready to pull strings for her, she was stuck in a desk nine hours a day, while Lysander got an investigative column and a free pass to hobnob with all of the big shots at the Daily Prophet. Her dad was right, life was unfair.

Ring! Ring ring! The desk phone cut into her reverie. “Daily Prophet, this is Dominique Weasley.”

“Dom, it’s Rose. You got a sec?”

Dom inspected a neatly trimmed fingernail. “I’ve got all the time in the world. Margot’s problems can wait.”

“Who’s Margot? Wait, nevermind. Listen I know it’s almost quitting time over there but I wanted to tell you something. I was at the big Wizengamot meeting this afternoon--”

“Please don’t remind me you get to go to cool meetings while I have to sit here all day,” Dom cut her cousin off, stomach twisting with envy.

Rose scoffed. “As if! Being stenographer for the most stuffy group of witches and wizards in the world is hardly an exciting day of work. But seriously, I’ve got something you might find interesting. You’re always looking for some mysterious story, you little sleuth.”

Dom’s ears pricked up at the mention of mystery. “I’m no detective, but we both know I need a breaking story or something to get me out of this personal advice gig.”

“I know, I know, so shut up and hear me out,” Rose insisted. “Caspar Bomsnox hasn’t been to a Wizengamot meeting in over two months! At first I didn’t think it was anything, but every time someone asks his secretary about it, she hedges and won’t reply. Kingsley-er, Minister Shacklebolt, I mean-won’t say anything publicly but it’s obvious he doesn’t know what’s going on either.”

Dom furrowed her brow. “Bomsnox…isn’t he the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement? He can’t just vanish without everyone knowing where he is. And he’s the liaison to all of the foreign Ministries of Magic.”

“Exactly, so something fishy is definitely going on. Honestly I don’t know if it’s even a story, but I figured it couldn’t hurt to give you the tip, right?”

A frustrated looking witch approached Dom’s tiny, cluttered desk. “Do you have that column or not?” she snapped in a hoarse voice. “We’ll need to fill the space with an extra advertisement if you can’t get it done.”

Dom nodded quickly. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll get to it, Bertha. Give me fifteen.” Turning back to the phone, she spoke to her cousin under her breath. “Gotta dash, Rose. They’re gonna convert my essential column to ad space if I don’t hurry. But thanks for the tip, this might be great.”

Slamming the phone back into its receiver, she gave her copy editor her first genuine smile in what felt like months. “I’m on it, don’t get your knickers in a twist.”


	2. Chapter Two

Dom glared at the page in front of her on the computer screen. Two measly bullet points stared back at her:

\- Bomsnox missing from Wizengamot

\- Secretary says he's in poor health, but he was seen at a Quidditch game just last week

Was it enough? She was about to pitch what was probably her hundredth attempt at getting herself put on an investigative story. She had tried every angle. What was one more failure after all of that? Dom hopped to her feet and pushed her desk chair in. Now or never.

Striding through the rows of newsroom cubicles and long tables, she felt slightly sick to her stomach. For a brief moment, she wished that she knew how to turn on the Veela charm the same way her sister did. But she banished that thought immediately. That had been tried, and that had failed.

"Where are you heading off to?" Lysander's loud voice broke into her panicked thoughts. He fell into step beside her, tracing the path up to the editor-in-chief's office.

_I definitely don't need this right now._ "Leave me alone."

A smug grin fixed itself on his handsome face. "Ah, off to pitch another story, are you?"

Determined to ignore him, she stopped at Barnabas Cuffe's office door and waited just a moment.

"Are you planning to knock, or should I do that for you?" Lysander inquired, leaning jauntily against the wall beside the door.

She steeled herself and turned to face him. "I'm only going to ask you once. Step away from the door. You might get everything you want around here, and you might've beaten me at Hogwarts by the skin of your teeth. But if I tell you to leave me the hell alone, then you damn well had better listen."

His hazel eyes widened, as if for a brief second he had actually been caught off-guard. Rather than shoot back a witty remark like she expected him to, Lysander stepped away from the door and said quietly, "Best of luck."

Not wasting a moment to reflect on the fact that she had just lost her temper at him again after he was incredibly annoying again, Dom forced herself to quit stalling and rapped quickly on the door to the editor's office.

"Yeah, what is it?"

She pushed into the wide room and swallowed hard. This never got any easier.

"Dominique, what is it? How can I help you?" Barnabas Cuffe muttered in a flurry of words, papers flying from his hands as she shut the door behind her. "Don't tell me it's another story idea."

Dom gave him an apologetic shrug.

Cuffe let out an elongated sigh. "Okay, let's get this over with, doll."

_This time, it's gotta work. It has to._ She settled herself onto the edge of a chair, afraid to get too comfortable. "The Head of Magical Law Enforcement hasn't been to a Wizengamot meeting in over two months."

He still looked irritated, but he hadn't yelled at her yet. That was a good sign.

"His secretary claims he's ill, but he was seen at a Quidditch game just last week," she added.

"And you've spoken to his secretary directly?" Cuffe inquired.

Dom gave a short nod.

He leaned back in his chair, putting his arms behind his head. For a second she thought she saw that frustrated look coming, the one that would send her scrambling from his office once again and back to her secluded Cubicle of Doom. But instead, he simply furrowed his brow. "Interesting."

That had to have been the most wonderful word Dom had heard in her entire life. But the victory lasted only for a moment, vanishing seconds later when Cuffe bellowed, "Scamander, get in here!"

Without a moment's hesitation, Lysander appeared in the room, calmly striding toward the desk, as if he had been outside with his ear pressed to the door, just waiting for their editor to call his name. "What's up, boss?"

_He just casually says 'what's up?' to Cuffe?_ she squawked internally.

"Miss Weasley here tells me Bomsnox has been gone from the Wizengamot for months. How did you miss this?" Cuffe snapped.

For the second time in the past five minutes, Lysander actually looked somewhat chastened. "I hadn't heard."

Cuffe rolled his eyes. "That much is evident. If we get beaten to this story I'm going to be livid. Dominique, tell this foolish young man what you just told me."

Clearing her throat quickly, Dom turned to face him. He placed his hands on the back edge of the chair beside her and gave her an expectant look.

"His secretary was being pretty dodgy. Said he was ill, and wouldn't answer me when I told her he'd been seen at a Quidditch match last week," Dom told him, unable to stop a slightly smug smile from creeping onto her face.

Lysander's gaze flicked away from her fast. "Don't worry, boss, I'm on it." He turned to go.

"Wait just a minute." Cuffe's small eyes traveled from his young investigative reporter to the nervous looking girl before him. "You two are working together on this."

"What?!" both Dom and Lysander yelled simultaneously.

Her blue eyes snapped to meet his hazel, but he was staring aghast at their editor.

"You heard me. Dominique brought the story to me and she deserves a shot at investigating. You bring her with you, let her ask a few questions."

Lysander's brows shot upwards and he shook his head furiously. "No, absolutely not. This could be a big story. I'm not letting a kid trail around with me."

Dom rolled her eyes. "We graduated from the same class at Hogwarts, Lysander, I'm hardly a kid."

"See, there you have it. You two will make a great team." Cuffe smiled placidly.

"You've got to be kidding me," Lysander groaned, loosening his tie in frustration.

Before Dom's grin got too out of control, though, Cuffe faced her. "And you. Listen to Scamander here. He's in charge. This is your first real story, so don't go thinking you're some expert, and don't screw this up. This doesn't mean anything permanent."

Her heart dropped a little at his words, but being put on this story was more than she could've hoped for already so she didn't speak up.

Cuffe picked up a group of papers and went back to shuffling through them. "I want a preliminary story ready to run by Friday. Get out of here."

Not even sparing a glance at her, Lysander turned and strode from the room. Dom rose from her chair and prepared to follow him, but Cuffe spoke again. "Don't let him get to you. He's not a bad guy deep down," the man told her with a wink.

Dom very much doubted that. Years of trying to beat Lysander in school had gotten her closer to him than she wanted to be, and he had never revealed anything deeper than a massive ego and a penchant for making fun her failures. And now her very first real story depended on his help. Giving Cuffe a brief smile and a "thanks, boss," she hurried after her new partner.

"So what're we doing first?" she asked, taking three long steps to try and catch up with his quick strides.

He wheeled to face her. "'We' aren't doing anything. This is my story and you're tagging along. I'll let you know if I need coffee."

Dom's mouth dropped open. He stalked down the aisle of the newsroom and entered his office, which was positioned on the far wall in the row of investigative offices. I am not about to let him do this, she told herself angrily, and stormed after him, wedging herself through the quickly closing door and following him to his desk.

"Get out of here, Dominique," he muttered tiredly.

"I'm not leaving until we talk. I realize you think you're better than me because you barely squeaked ahead of me in school for seven years. I realize you have a great job and you're a boy wonder and you don't need me on this story. But this is my one chance to impress Cuffe and get promoted from my stupid personal advice column." Her blue eyes were wide and little wisps of red-blonde hair escaped her ponytail.

Lysander arched a dark eyebrow. "So what. You might need me, but I don't need you."

Dom set her jaw. "That's what you think." She glanced around the little office and noticed stacks of paper strewn everywhere, uncapped pens littering the top of his desk, boxes stacked haphazardly in the corner. "I'm as organized as it gets, I remember details, I can be invisible when you need me to be, and best of all, I got you this story. That has to count for something."

He eyed her thoughtfully, sinking into his desk chair. "You're not taking the lead. No way."

"I don't want the lead, Lysander." She bit her tongue and forced out her next words. "I want to learn from you. Maybe Cuffe's right, we could make a good team."

Lysander let out a sharp laugh. "We're not going to be a team. But I'll let you tag along. You're in charge of the paperwork; I'll deal with the people skills. We leave for the Ministry first thing tomorrow morning. Finish your little paragraph of relationship advice and be ready to go."

Gritting her teeth, she watched him for a moment, weighing the value of starting another fight. Not worth it. She would pick her battles. But she was going to win the war.


	3. Chapter Three

Dom eyed herself in the mirror and wished for the thousandth time that she had gotten her mother's Veela looks. Technically she was an eighth Veela, but that was not at all evident from her reddish locks and smattering of freckles. The Weasley side of her family was certainly much more exciting than her French relatives, but she would always curse them for bestowing her with her appearance.

A loud rap on the door startled her. "Would you hurry up? We're going to miss our appointment."

She heaved a sigh and pushed her bangs out of her eyes. That was probably as good as it was going to get. Jerking the bathroom door open, she eyed Lysander with some irritation. "I came in bloody two hours early for this, you don't have to be such a grouch."

He flashed a grin. "You want an investigative beat then you put up with crazy hours. I don't want to hear you complaining anymore, got it?"

Dom grabbed a quill and notebook from her desk as she struggled to keep up with his quick pace down the aisle of the newsroom.

"Leave that here," he barked. "And walk faster."

Rather than speeding up, she came to a full halt. "How am I supposed to take notes for you without paper."

Noticing that she was no longer a pace behind him, Lysander pivoted slowly to face her. "You remember things and type them all up later," he enunciated. "If this is too difficult for you, I'm happy to hire another secretary."

Her blue eyes went wide. "I'm not your secretary! I'm on this story just like you are."

"I wouldn't say 'just like me,'" he qualified, pursing his lips. "Look, once you've actually written something other than a measly personal advice column then we'll talk. Until then, you're lucky I'm letting you tag along." He turned around once again, not seeming to care that everyone in the newsroom was beginning to stare. "And don't make me tell you to walk faster again."

Dominique stared agape at his quickly retreating back, clothed in a professional, dark suit coat. "I'm going to kill him, I really am," she muttered, scurrying after him.

When they reached the lobby, Lysander grabbed a pinch of Floo powder from the mantle of the massive fireplace and motioned for her to do the same. "Ladies first," he directed with another dazzling smile, as if she had imagined his curt attitude from moments before.

Resolving not to let him get under her skin and ruin her first investigative trip, Dom took some Floo powder and hurried to toss it into the fireplace. "Ministry of Magic," she enunciated carefully. The last thing she needed was to get lost somewhere in London.

Moments later, they both stood in the bustling entrance hall of the Ministry of Magic. Without a word to her, Lysander took off, dress shoes clacking sharply against the polished marble floor.

This assignment has been much more exercise than I ever expected, Dom grumbled internally, smoothing down her gray skirt and hurrying along, dodging witches and wizards as she struggled to keep up with his quick stride.

She followed along behind him all the way to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement until he came to an abrupt halt at the lobby desk where a blonde witch stared at a computer screen.

"Good morning," he announced, causing her to jump.

"Yeah what's up?" she snapped, typing rapidly.

Lysander pasted a broad smile on his face and maintained eye contact with the young witch. "We're here to meet with Edward Pennysworth."

Suddenly, a smile appeared on the receptionist's face and she toyed with her necklace, devoting her full attention to the young, handsome wizard. "Oh sure, let me just check the appointment schedule."

"No need," Lysander assured her. "He knows we'll be here."

She frowned at her computer screen. "I don't have any appointments scheduled for him. You know he's filling in for…" Her voice trailed off. "Never mind. You can't see him if you don't have an appointment."

Dominique knew they couldn't say they were from the Prophet or it would tip the girl off to the fact that they were looking into Bomsnox's absence. She was tempted to speak up and try to provide some sort of cover, anything to show Lysander she belonged with him on this trip. But he beat her to it.

"Pennysworth is an old family friend, and I don't think he'd be too happy to find us out here in the waiting room because you were too obsessed about your little calendar." That was more like the arrogant, over-confident Lysander that Dominique was used to. But his warm smile was still firmly placed on his face. "I wouldn't want you to get in any trouble with him."

The girl blushed and nodded. "Well, thanks. I totally understand. Go ahead in, I assume you know where you're going?"

Dom eyed the long, narrow corridor to their right with skepticism, but Lysander nodded emphatically. "We've got it, thanks so much for your help."

Not bothering with a second glance back, he strode away from the front desk and down the hallway as if he hadn't a care in the world.

"How did you manage that?" Dominique hissed as she caught up to him. "And how did you know this Pennysworth was filling in for Bomsnox?"

Lysander gave her a look that was half cocky and half pitying. "You're working with the master, Dominique. And if you could keep your voice down that would be splendid." He rapped twice on the last door on the left.

"Come in."

Lysander pushed the door open boldly. "Mr. Pennysworth! A pleasure to see you." Pausing only momentarily to let Dom squeeze in the door behind him, he shut the door firmly and strode to the huge desk by the window where a small wizard sat. He extended a hand. "Dexter McMillan with the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, Goblin Liaison Office. This is my colleague Barbara Fanglesnoof."

Dom almost slapped him.

Edward Pennysworth narrowed his eyes as he shook Lysander's hand slowly. "I don't have any appointments scheduled. I'm only the assistant head of Magical Law Enforcement, I don't see why anyone would need to meet with me."

Lysander glanced at Dom and furrowed his brow. "Oh, really? We were told you were the main contact point for law enforcement for the foreseeable future. Is that not the case?"

Pennysworth's eyes darted right and left and back to them. "What exactly is the issue you need assistance with?"

Lysander sank into a chair and waved a hand at Dom. "Do sit, Barbara. I trust that's alright, Mr. Pennysworth? Ed? May I call you Ed?" His bright, hazel eyes sparkled with mirth.

"Erm, I'm not sure." Pennysworth crossed his arms and eyed them both warily.

"Ed, the issue is Gringotts. We've been having quite a hard time with the head goblins and setting the interest rates for the upcoming year. Vargot and I have really reached an impasse in our discussions and we can't seem to agree on the appropriate rate. Since you're in charge of law enforcement for the time being, I thought you'd be the best person to help us resolve the dilemma."

Where in the bloody hell did he come up with that nonsense? Dom wondered. She hated to admit it, but he was even better at this investigative business than she had imagined.

Pennysworth rifled with a few papers on his desk. "Truth of the matter is, I've got quite a lot to deal with these days what with Caspar…" he trailed off. "Well, let's just say I have more to balance than usual."

Lysander nodded slowly, surveying the massive stacks of folders that almost obscured their view of the wizard across from them. "I can see you're a bit overloaded. Do you have any idea when you might have a break from all of this work?"

Absolutely brilliant, Dom grumbled spitefully to herself.

"There's really no end in sight. I've gotten so many new cases to deal with just in the past month, and I haven't been given any time to look for an assistant." The wizard shook his head and sighed heavily. "I'm sorry to say I probably can't help much at all until I've at least hired a secretary. This transition could be permanent for me for all I know."

Lysander's left eyebrow tweaked up just slightly, taken aback at the revelation. But he didn't miss a beat. "I've got a splendid idea. What if Barbara here filled in for a bit, just until you can hire someone full time. I do keep her quite busy, but I can spare her for a few hours a day if that would help you out."

Dom's jaw dropped. It was a perfect idea, actually, having an reporter on the inside...but the idea that the reporter would be her! She had never thought such a thing would be possible. She didn't know if she was excited or nervous.

Pennysworth's small eyes shifted over to her. "You haven't said a word this whole time, do you even speak?" he snapped.

Dom gulped. "I-I, of course I do."

He pursed his lips. "I suppose if you help me out for a bit here I can find time to look through some papers on the interest rate issue. Are you organized?"

Before Dom could speak up for herself, Lysander got to his feet. "I can personally assure you, Ed, that she is the most organized and thorough witch you've ever met. I'll have Barb come on up here every afternoon for a few hours until you can find a replacement. Thanks so much for your time."

Stunned, she followed him from the room and back down the hall. It wasn't until they had reached the loud, crowded main anteway to the Ministry that she found her voice. "What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?" she snapped at him, putting a hand on his arm and trying to slow his efficient stride.

Lysander cast a puzzled look down at her. "You can thank me at any point."

"Thank you?! For Barbara Fanglesnoof?" Her voice was a strangled squeak.

"Yes, Barbara, dear. I just got you your first real undercover assignment, so don't be ungrateful." He looked away from her and began his path back to the fireplaces. "Besides, you're lucky I made you my colleague and not my intern."

Her mouth gaped open as she once again trailed after him, pushing a frustrated hand through her tangled red locks. "You just made me some guy's secretary."

Lysander whirled around to face her again. "He's not some guy. He's clearly the replacement for Bomsnox and he's our best chance at getting an inside scoop. Stop complaining and be grateful. We're going back to work to write the opening piece, either shut up and come help me or go home for the day."

Dom's eyes blazed with contained anger. His cocky attitude had been plaguing her for almost ten years and she'd had enough. But the fact was, he had gotten her a huge undercover break, and if she wanted to escape a life of drudgery writing personal advice columns every day, winning him over was her only chance. "I'll shut up," she muttered, following him to the fireplace. But not forever, she vowed.


	4. Chapter Four

Dominique burst into Lysander's office, a triumphant grin blazing across her face. "Look what I have."

Annoyed, Lysander glanced up from his computer briefly. "You could at least knock."

Choosing to ignore his curt tone, she brandished a piece of paper at him. "Do you even care what this paper is?"

"Unless it's a snappy opening line for this story I really don't care." His hazel eyes were transfixed on the screen.

Dominique blinked at him slowly. "You know, you might be a genius and everything, but you can be really narrow-minded sometimes."

That got his attention. His gaze snapped up at her. "What is it you want, Dominique."

She almost told him to call her Dom, but decided against it. Choosing to let her work speak for itself, she placed the paper down on the edge of his desk and stepped back.

Still appearing exasperated, he snatched the paper and skimmed over it. A moment later, his eyes widened just the tiniest bit, and she knew she'd taken him by surprise. "This is gold. Where did you get this?"

Dom couldn't keep a small, slightly smug smile from tweaking up the corners of her mouth. "Pennysworth's office."

His pleased expression vanished in an instant. "You took this from his office?"

"Obviously. It's perfect! It's hard evidence that Pennysworth is taking over for Bomsnox because no one can find him," Dom exhaled in a rush of words. She had snatched the letter from a stack in his office, and she knew it would make the perfect evidence for their opening story.

Lysander shook his head. "You might have gotten Cuffe to buy into this story, but you have the journalistic instincts of the Whomping Willow." He tossed the paper back onto his desk. "You can't take evidence from a suspect's office, Dominique! What if he notices it's gone? What if he realizes you're the only person who could have taken it? What if your cover is blown and we have no way to finish this story?"

A lump popped up in her throat. He was right, she was an idiot. Why hadn't she thought of any of that? "I—"

"But obviously you wouldn't consider those things because you've never covered a real story and you've only ever been second best." His caustic tone bit into her.

Dom's breath caught in her throat.

_His hazel eyes flashed brightly as a cocky grin slashed across his face. "Once again," he scoffed, folding his arms across his broad chest._

_Dominique's gaze flicked from him to the list posted on the wall of the hallway. It read out its horrifying message:_

_Hogwarts Fifth Year Class Results_

_1._ _Lysander Scamander_

_2._ _Dominique Weasley_

_The rest of the list disappeared in a blur of tears that swarmed to her eyes without any warning. He had beaten her. Again. He always came in first in their class, every year, without fail. And every year she came in second. In the one thing she was good at, her school work, Lysander always managed to squeak ahead. And he never let her forget it._

_"Hey, better luck next year, Weasley." He gave her a hard nudge with his elbow. "Maybe a little more time studying and a little less time chasing the Slytherin Quidditch Captain?"_

_Her heart thudded in her chest as she watched his irritating smile settle on his face, and he flashed her a wink. She hated him._

But there were no tears in her eyes as she faced him now. The only emotion welling up inside of her was burning, churning anger.

Though she felt like she might explode, Lysander's voice was cool and calm, but as biting as it always had been. "Go back to his office this second. Make up an excuse. Take this paper back there and put it exactly where you found it." Not even meeting her eye, he turned back to the computer screen and began typing.

"I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking," Dom managed to choke out.

He let out a short bark of a laugh. Still typing. "That much is obvious."

Once again he was a step ahead of her, and instead of merely hurting her pride, it was hurting her chance at a reporter's job. Spinning around, she fled, before her fury could come pouring out in a stream of curse words. But she realized she had no one to be angry with but herself.

* * *

Swallowing a deep gulp of air, and feeling none of the joy or confidence she had felt last time she faced his office door, Dominique reached up and knocked tentatively.

"What is it?" his sharp tone inquired.

She pushed the door opened and stepped inside slowly, hardly able to look him in the eye. "I returned the letter without him noticing, and I copied down exactly what it said so you can use it in the story." She held the copied paper out to him.

One of his straight, dark eyebrows flicked up. "Thank you." He took it from her outstretched hand.

Dom turned to go, sure that if she stayed a moment longer he would find another reason to cut her to pieces.

"Dominique."

She didn't turn around, pausing with her hand on the doorknob.

"Wait a second, would you?"

 _So now he decides to use a polite tone?_  Dom remained there, not facing him, but not opening the door to leave.

Lysander let out a heavy sigh. "You can look at me, I'm not going to fly off the handle again."

Her blue eyes were wide as she pivoted to face him once more.

"Sit down for a second." He gestured to one of the two red plush chairs on the opposite side of his desk.

Feeling her palms begin to sweat, she took an uneasy seat on the edge of a chair and waited for the storm to begin again.

He pushed his fingertips together, elbows resting on his desk as his hazel eyes bored into her. "I'd like to apologize."

Dom couldn't have been more shocked if he had jumped from his seat and begun dancing a jig.

"Don't get me wrong," he continued with a small, wry smile. "You messed up big time."

_Of course. Even when apologizing he wouldn't miss a chance to point out my stupidity._

"But there was no excuse for the way I treated you earlier. I'm the superior journalist on this team and I'm supposed to be teaching you how this works, not scaring you out of your shoes."

Though his words were as condescending as she would expect any apology from this arrogant man to be, Dom could see a glimmer of sincerity in his eyes.

"Honestly, Dominique, there's a lot riding on this story." Lysander pushed a hand through his hair, a gesture she already had become accustomed to in their week working together. "I'm known as the 'boy wonder' around here, for better or worse. That comes with its perks, but it also means a lot is expected of me. This is a huge story, and our success or failure will reflect on my career enormously. The stress got to me."

Dom surveyed him thoughtfully. In all of her years at Hogwarts and all of the time she spent competing tooth and nail with him for the top spot in their class, she never would've imagined there would come a day when he would apologize to her. And not only that, but that he would reveal anything other than his self-assured attitude.

He leaned back in his chair and watched her. "So, what do you say? Forgive me?"

She gave a small smile. "Sure." It did nothing to erase the hurt she had built up over their years of competition and the sting of the barbs he had thrown at her. But this could be the beginning of something new between them. Maybe even a friendship.

The bright grin was back, as if he had known all along his apology would work its magic. "Great. Now what do you say you help me craft this opening line? It's a stubborn little bugger."

For once, she felt as if her smile might match his. "I'd love to."


	5. Chapter Five

The sidewalk bustled with energy as Dominique hurried down the street. London woke up even earlier than her, which seemed somewhat impossible seeing as how she was getting up earlier and earlier every day.

She and Lysander had been toiling over their first story on the Bomsnox investigation for over a week, and she couldn't believe how much work it had taken. She enjoyed writing as much as the next witch, but the analysis of commas to which Lysander subjected his work was beyond rigorous.

Skirting around a crowded coffee stand and dodging a scurrying wizard, Dom dropped a Knut into a small box by the nearest building and picked up the Daily Prophet.

"MINISTRY MAN MYSTERIOUSLY MISSING" it read out in huge, capital letters. A picture of Bomsnox presiding over the Wizengamot shimmered just below the headline, and the words she and Lysander had crafted began underneath that.

Lysander Scamander, the column read just above its text. It was only right that he had gotten the credit for the story, because he had found out about Pennysworth and gotten them into his office. But a small part of her longed to see her name up there beside his. The truth was, she had found the letter that gave them the strongest part of their piece.

Shaking aside her discontent, she walked the last two blocks to the Prophet office and hurried to her desk.

"You writing your advice column today, doll?" Bertha's grumpy voice inquired.

Dom glared at the huge stack of letters waiting for her. "We'll see."

Bertha nodded slowly. "Right…so you think you're Celestina Warbeck now just because you're helping out with some big investigation, huh?"

"I think I'm who?" Dom asked.

The older witch rolled her eyes. "You kids. All the same." She shuffled away.

Dom's phone rang sharply. "Daily Prophet, this is Dominique."

"And how is the Daily Prophet's premiere reporter this morning?" Louis asked.

She couldn't squelch a smile. "Hey, Lou. My name's not even on the piece!"

"Maybe not," her little brother admitted. "But you know, and I know, and Mum and Dad know, and pretty much our entire extended family knows at this point. You're in the big leagues, kid!"

Dom chuckled. "Thanks. It does feel pretty good."

"I'm sure you'll be getting tons of calls from aunts and cousins and the like today. This is a huge story, Dom! You realize you're taking on what could be Ministry corruption, right?"

"Of course I do. It's a big story. I'm just not sure how big of a part I'm even playing here," she whispered, propping the phone between her shoulder and ear so she could rip open the top letter on the massive pile beside her.

"Just keep working hard. You can do it. See you for dinner soon?"

Dom furrowed her brow. "Maybe. I'll see you at Christmas at the latest. I have to put in more time than usual on this story."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Alright well, we miss you."

"You too. Bye, Lou." Dom hung up the phone and tried to focus her attention on the letter in her hands, but it was impossible to even make her eyes read the words. She had broken a huge story! Maybe not in her name, but Louis was right; she had done the work.

"Scamander! Weasley!" a voice roared from halfway up the newsroom. "Get your asses in here!"

It was Cuffe's angry yell, and he sounded as far from pleased as Dom had ever heard him. Forgetting her jubilation, she scurried up the aisle towards his office, bumping into Lysander as she ran.

He didn't even stop to say a word to her, just pulled his tie straight and skidded into their boss's office ahead of her. Lysander was able only to give her a brief glance before Cuffe slammed the door behind them.

"Can one of you explain this to me please?" he snapped, throwing a piece of paper at Lysander.

It began its slow descent to the floor before Lysander snatched it up and scanned the page. Dom stepped closer to him, the fibers of his starched button-down shirt scratching her arm as she read.

"Let me make your lives easier." Cuffe's beady eyes blazed, tone deadly. "It's a statement from the Ministry of Magic condemning your story."

Hadn't Cuffe read over their draft for print last night, Dom wondered. She knew better than to ask him out loud. If their story was right, it shouldn't matter what anyone said about it, even the Ministry.

But Lysander didn't seem as sure of himself as she felt. He stared down at the paper and didn't say a word.

"But wait!" Cuffe exclaimed, fake cheer oozing from his voice. "There's more!" He brandished a second paper in front of them before reading off of it in a singsong voice. "I am as well as ever and have been busy working to keep wizarding Britain's foreign affairs in order. I am dedicated to the wellbeing of the British Ministry of Magic." Beads of sweat were beginning to form on their editor's brow.

Dom glanced at Lysander, but his gaze was fixed on Cuffe.

"That was a statement from our dear friend." Cuffe bit out the last two words. "Caspar. Bomsnox."

Her heart stilled. Bomsnox was gone, missing, not at work! How was he issuing statements from the Ministry?

Cuffe began pacing rapidly in front of them. "Now tell me something. How is this possible? How is this man issuing statements when you two claim he's been replaced and is missing from the Ministry?"

Lysander seemed to have regained his voice. "We printed nothing but what we had evidence to prove."

Their editor stopped his ferocious strides directly in front of Lysander, and though he was a good six inches shorter than his star reporter, the younger man looked as afraid as Dom had ever seen him.

"Isn't that just peachy keen!" Cuffe exclaimed. "You printed the evidence." He took another step and halted before Dom, glaring down at her. "And where did this evidence come from?"

Dom tried to look at Lysander for a tip, but realized she needed to speak up on her own. "Most of it came from a letter I found when working for Edward Pennysworth undercover."

Cuffe's infuriated gaze seared into her. "The Ministry isn't acknowledging any such letter. Why should I trust the evidence you found?"

Dom was silent.

"I should've known better than to let anyone cover this story, let alone someone as green as you, Weasley." He whirled away from them and stalked to his desk. "We're an unbiased newspaper. We don't have any business scrutinizing a 'disappearing man' who hasn't disappeared at all."

Lysander shook his head. "I believe the evidence we've found so far isn't dubious at all."

Dom admired his courage to stand up to their boss, whose face was now as red as a forgotten Remembrall.

"I don't care if it's as plain as the scar on Harry Potter's forehead!" Cuffe yelled, slamming his fist into his desk. "We're taking heat from the bloody Ministry of Magic!"

Lysander merely stood straighter. "Backing off the story will only make us look worse. Give us one more chance to look into this. If we find more evidence, we can prove we're right, and the Ministry will have no choice but to admit it."

Cuffe seemed only slightly pacified. "That's assuming there's more evidence to find."

"I've been doing solid undercover reporting for you for two years. That's got to earn me a little trust and a little more time." Lysander's hazel eyes were calm as he watched their boss carefully.

For once, his confidence seemed genuine and was without a trace of arrogance. It was as if he was truly sure of his ability and not just trying to make himself look smart and self-assured.

"Fine. You have two more weeks to write a follow-up piece. But it had better be damn good." Cuffe turned his back to them.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Dom spun around and began to follow Lysander from the room.

"But she's off the story," Cuffe snapped.

It felt as if the air had been knocked from her lungs. Squeezing her eyes shut, she steeled herself for a fight. Dominique turned back around to face the editor-in-chief, trying to gather as many arguments as she could. But she never got a chance to speak.

"Absolutely not." Lysander took a step toward the desk.

"What do you care?" Cuffe eyed Lysander and pursed his lips. "You didn't want her on the story to start with."

Dom was itching to speak up, but she knew Lysander would be angry if she jumped in the middle of this argument after he had stuck his neck out to defend her. Besides, a small part of her relished the fact that he still wanted her working with him.

"She's been invaluable. Dominique found the most solid evidence we had for this piece. Whether or not the Ministry is happy about it, she did amazing investigative work. And that's not even considering how bloody organized she is." He ran a finger beneath his stiff, white collar as if it was choking him. "I need her on this story."

It looked as if Cuffe was going to resist, but after a moment he waved a hand. "Do whatever you want. But now your ass is on the line, not hers."

"My ass is already on the line," Lysander pointed out.

Cuffe raised a bushy eyebrow. "You might make light of this, but she's not the one with everything to lose."

Lysander didn't reply, just watched his boss quietly.

"Well don't just stand there! If you two don't turn up some bloody brilliant facts and fast, she won't be the only one out on her ass," Cuffe barked.

Lysander gave a curt nod and, herding Dom along with a hand on her back, propelled her from the room ahead of him.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Dom got a strong urge to thank him, and maybe even hug him. But she had the unfortunate feeling that he would brush her gratitude aside as if it were a pesky fly. Instead, she let him guide her into his office and watched silently as he closed the door behind them.

Looking much more relaxed than she felt, he settled into his desk chair and glanced up at her. "So where do we begin?"

"That was insane!" Dom exclaimed. "I can't even believe how angry he was."

Lysander shrugged. "He gets like that a lot. I've learned how to deal with him."

"That was fairly evident. I thought he was going to eat me alive."

He smirked. "He might've if I'd let him."

"Well thank you for sparing me that ignominious fate." She blew a few stray pieces of her bangs from her eyes.

Lysander dipped his head in a deferential nod. "If I hadn't, who would help me with all of this?" He waved his hand at the stacks of boxes littering his small, cluttered office.

"A fair point."

"Why don't you start in that corner over there, and we'll discuss our next move. We've got a lot of work ahead of us," he intoned gravely, still allowing a small smile on his face.

As Dominique tentatively began sifting through ripped and scribbled upon papers, she realized she was just the smallest bit excited to begin again.


End file.
